


OCD

by vvipforseungri



Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: AU, M/M, trigger warning: ocd, trigger warning: panic attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-07 21:39:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vvipforseungri/pseuds/vvipforseungri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which jinwoo has obsessive compulsive disorder and meets mino.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vnKZ4pdSU-s). three-shot.

Jinwoo ties his shoelaces, muttering under his breath, _over under pull it tight make a bow pull it through to do it right_. He unties them right away, cursing a little, _dammit over under pull it tight make a bow pull it through to do it right_ , pulls the string tight. He sighs and pulls on a lace, unraveling his knot once more. _Over under pull it tight make a bow—_

With a groan of annoyance, Jinwoo gives up the whole affair, tossing the shoes aside before reaching over and righting them. He puts the shoes away in their cubby, making sure that they’re perfectly aligned before perusing the rest of his shoe collection. He settles on his usual pair of runners, sitting back down on the step and getting to work. His first try results in the right shoe being perfect and the left shoe being wrong; the Velcro is just a hair out of place. He undoes both shoes anyway.

Jinwoo is no longer on time anymore, too much time wasted on tie-up shoes. With his shoes finally to his satisfaction, he picks up his satchel and double-checks the papers he’d put in them. And then checks again. He grits his teeth and closes the satchel, sneaking one last peek before settling the bag around his shoulders.

Jinwoo doesn’t allow himself to take public transportation. There are simply too many things that can go wrong, and there was that one disastrous time when his inability to push the bus door open made him go almost half an hour longer on his ride. The walk home had been miserable and he’d vowed never again.

Now, Jinwoo is relieved that’s a relatively nice day out. A little windy, but otherwise manageable. He’s very good at avoiding the streets with the particularly unpleasant cracks in the roads, like the ones a block away where the city has neglected to maintain.

Stop.

Hesitate.

Stop.

Hesitate.

He sucks in a breath and closes his eyes, only exhaling when he’s forced his feet over the crack. He feels the familiar race in his heart, even at this little action. He wonders if maybe one day he’ll develop heart problems. The pill he takes in the morning to handle his anxiety helps some, but it’s not perfect.

And if that doesn’t bother him like crazy, then he’ll be damned.

It takes him a while, but eventually he makes it to the coffee shop exactly five hundred and seventy three steps away from his house. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a tissue, and carefully opens the door, making sure that the metal never actually touches his skin. It’s busy inside, the rush of school letting out and teenagers waiting for their coffee-and-sweet fixes making him vaguely nervous. He’s not socially anxious, per se, but the number of people in a room with him and the chances of him possibly getting touched by their filthy hands is directly proportional. He’d just rather not.

The wait in line isn’t all that bad, since he gets preoccupied with making sure the clip on his satchel is properly clasped over and over again, because he doesn’t remember checking it when he left his house earlier. When he gets to the front counter, he smiles because it’s Nam Taehyun and he is familiar.

“Hiya, Jinwoo-ssi.”

“Hello. Hello. Hello. Hell— Hi.”

It’ll do, and Taehyun’s grin doesn’t waver. “Just the usual, then?”

Jinwoo nods and reaches into his pocket, where his wallet lies safe. He knows; he’s checked four times.

“10 000 won, even.”

They’d worked this out a while ago. One bill, crisp and new from the bank. No change, no receipts. Very safe.

Jinwoo shuffles to the side to wait for his hot chocolate and apple strudel. He chats to Taehyun a little, tells him about the new chapter he’s just finished. Taehyun promises to do a proofread and presents Jinwoo his special order. Hot chocolate, paper cup. Strudel, china plate. Jinwoo has come often enough to trust Taehyun, so he thanks Taehyun again and goes to find a seat.

He’s a little disappointed to see someone already sitting in his usual seat, a corner table meant for two people. He hesitates a little before moving to the neighbouring table, discomfort rising at this change. It’s not that he’s attached to the table, or anything. It’s just that he kinda is.  
A quick disinfecting wipe later, Jinwoo settles into chair and sets his satchel down on the table beside his food and drink. He takes a cursory sip, it’s still too hot, and pulls out his manuscript. He can do this at home, of course; it was one of the luxuries of at-home working that Jinwoo was eternally grateful for. However, after a couple of months of essentially never leaving his house unless necessary, Jinwoo had realized he needed a little social interaction.

Even if that just meant Taehyun the barista and the constant bustle of the café.

He’s in the process of underlining a sentence for the fifth time when he realizes someone is watching him. He looks up and catches eyes staring at him, the stranger looking away quickly, a faint pink blush colouring his cheeks. It’s the man who’d stolen his seat earlier. Jinwoo watches as the man discreetly peeks back at him, flushing even darker after being caught a second time.

Jinwoo is a little confused, until the man smiles shyly at him.

 _Oh_ , he thinks. _He’s interested in me_.

The notion is not altogether novel; he has _some_ friends. Acquaintances. Whatever. He’s met them in various situations; it’s a little funny that he finally gets to have a cliché’d coffee shop encounter like the ones he sees on the TV dramas he likes to watch in the evenings.

“Hi,” he offers, pleased when it only takes him once.

The other man smiles deeper at this. “Hi,” he replies, white teeth flashing. He’s got a pleasant voice, deep. Calm. “What’re you doing?” he asks, looking down at the manuscript in Jinwoo’s hands.

“I’m editing.” He lifts the book a little to show the stranger. “My book.”

“Cool! You write?” The other man makes to get up from his seat, but Jinwoo stops him quickly.

“Wait, wait,” he says, gesturing at him to stop. “Can I come sit over there, instead? It’s just that that’s kind of my usual seat,” he explains after seeing the other’s face falter. Jinwoo gathers his things and moves over to the seat opposite.

“My name’s Jinwoo,” he says, carefully arranging his cup and his plate to make room for his satchel. He tries not to encroach on the other man’s space too much, but his satchel has to stay on the table.

“Mino,” is the reply. “Song Mino.” Mino smiles at Jinwoo again, eyes disappearing. “I’ve never seen you around here before.”

Jinwoo laughs. “I actually come here pretty often. _I’ve_ never seen _you_ around.” Jinwoo feels justified in saying this because he visits the café once every three days, like clockwork.

Mino’s lip juts out. “Alright, you caught me. I didn’t know what else to say.” He leans forward a little and although Jinwoo has to lean back on reflex, he can’t help but notice how straight Mino’s nose is and how white his teeth are.

 _He’s really pretty_ , he ends up thinking.

“Well, I did mention the book that I’m writing…” Jinwoo offers as a conversation piece. He quickly erases the last line he’d made in the book, because it’s crooked, and tries again. _Finally, it’s straight. I should have brought a ruler._

Jinwoo’s hot chocolate is safe to drink now, and he makes sure not to leave any crumbs on his plate. Mino’s only nursing a cup of coffee, which he takes sips out of now and then and Jinwoo is happy when there isn’t any residue on the lid. Mino is a really good conversationalist, and Jinwoo has to physically remind himself not to spoil the whole book by giving away the plot when Mino wheedles to know. He’s really proud of himself for not stumbling over his words too often, not like he normally would in otherwise simpler conversations. He finds that Mino’s laugh is contagious and that the tiny wrinkles that appear when he smiles are endearing rather than irritating.

 _Beautiful_ , Jinwoo amends.

“Why do you do that?” Mino asks, gesturing to where Jinwoo had just erased another line after having already drawn it five times. “Keep drawing it over and over again?”

It’s been a little over an hour (sixty-five minutes, according to Jinwoo’s watch) and Jinwoo had taken to editing while talking to Mino, since he’d finished his hot chocolate already. He’s never talked to anyone for this long before. He’d always get distracted by something they would do, or remember that he hadn’t checked whether or not his satchel is clasped properly.

He feels a pang of sadness, because he really had liked talking to Mino.

“I. I just do.” It’s all Jinwoo can offer. “The lines aren’t straight.”

“Obsessive-compulsive disorder?” Mino asks, but he doesn’t really mean it. Nobody ever does. They never expect it when Jinwoo nods, head  
bowed in shame.

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yes.”

As if it weren’t embarrassing enough.

“Oh.”

Jinwoo avoids looking at Mino. He knows it’s over; Mino’s going to leave. It’s too weird, too different. Technically, a mental disorder, and that just makes it worse, somehow. He waits for Mino to make some excuse, or worse, a joke, just like most people do.

So it surprises him when Mino says neither.

“What’s it like?” The curiosity in Mino’s voice is innocent, sincere. This makes Jinwoo look up, and Mino only looks curious, like when he’d asked about the names of the characters in Jinwoo’s book.

Jinwoo laughs a little, out of relief. “It sucks,” he says truthfully. “It’s a hassle even getting out of bed in the morning. Tying my shoes is impossible.” He smiles a little. “I never quite outgrew Velcro.”

Mino grins in response. “That’s cool. I can barely tie my shoes either, but that’s just because I’m kind of an idiot. I trip a lot.”

And just like that, the anxiety Jinwoo had felt creeping up on him dissipates. Jinwoo assures Mino that clumsiness is adorable, actually, and the warmth he feels is really pleasant.

They stay for half an hour longer, talking about other things. Jinwoo’s obsessive-compulsive disorder never comes up again, and it’s not like it’s being avoided. It’s just something Mino doesn’t feel the need to talk about. Mino leaves first, after carefully spelling out his phone number to Jinwoo because Jinwoo couldn’t actually accept the napkin he’d written it on. Jinwoo writes it down instead, on the margins of his manuscript. It surprisingly doesn’t bother him all that much. Mino waves and calls out a goodbye from across the café at the door, making Jinwoo blush and wave in return, not quite trusting his voice to reciprocate the farewell.

It’s as Jinwoo is making his long trek back to his house that he suddenly realizes he hadn’t once checked the clasp on his satchel since he’d first gotten to the café. He’d also forgotten to wipe down the table before sitting, forgotten to Purell his hands before leaving. And while he’s remembering all of this, he accidentally steps on a crack, and it doesn’t even make him stop. Of course, he pulls his hand sanitizer from his bag right away, and triple-checks the clasp afterwards. It hasn’t gone away, after all.

But meeting Mino had made him forget, if only for a little while, the little things that made him anxious. And that has never, ever happened before. Even now, Jinwoo finds himself preoccupied with the way Mino tilts his head a little when he laughs, and how his shirt was pressed.

It’s exhilarating.

Jinwoo carefully makes his way up the steps to his door, locking and unlocking it fifteen times behind him, hoping he’d be able to pluck up the courage to call Mino the next day. The smile on Jinwoo’s face stays there for the rest of the night.


	2. the middle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> being in love is kind of a huge change, but jinwoo definitely doesn't mind it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by [this](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vnKZ4pdSU-s).

Being in love is not something Jinwoo has ever experienced before. It’s usually too hard for Jinwoo to concentrate on the other person’s advances when he can’t stop thinking about their bodily fluids. And whenever he mentions it, it usually kills the mood.

But being in love with Mino is easy. Effortless.

Being in love with Mino is less about saliva and more about how _soft_ his lips are and the breathy gasps that spill out of his mouth when he gets close. Being in love with Mino is less about getting squeamish over lube and more about the way Mino’s arms are strong, yet gentle when he holds him and the way he’s sort of (okay, maybe _a lot_ ) vocal when he’s lost in the haze of lust.

And Jinwoo will never get tired of the way Mino cleans them up afterwards, without thought and still just as gentle. He’ll fall asleep right then and there, still sweaty and rumpled, and he won’t even mind.

For his part, Mino definitely doesn't mind the fourteen kiss-goodnights he gets because Jinwoo says the one before it wasn't right. Or so he claims.

 

* * *

 

“ _Over under pull it tight make a bow pull it through to do it right_ ,” mutters Jinwoo, fingers twisting along with the words. They’re running late, and sadly the restaurant they’re going to won’t be too impressed with his Velcro runners.

Mino rushes around, checking his hair one last time and grabbing the keys to the car before hurrying over to where Jinwoo still sat, struggling with his laces.

“Come on, hyung!” he exclaims. “We got a reservation to keep!”

Jinwoo huffs in frustration. “But my shoes!” he says plaintively. He pulls the strings loose once more. He doesn’t even know why he bothers.

Mino marches over and ties the laces sloppily, twice for good measure. “It’ll have to do, hyung, ‘cuz I’m starved and I’m not missing this reservation for anything!” He smiles as he pulls Jinwoo’s hand, protests falling on deaf ears. He kisses Jinwoo hard mid-complaint, and by the time Mino lets them up for air, Jinwoo is too busy gasping for breath to complain anymore.

 

They get there five minutes late. Jinwoo braves a diner to make it up to Mino, and they both giggle over the strange looks the get in their suits and ties. His laces remain tied.

 

* * *

 

“Ugh, can you _not_ ,” Jinwoo says, grimacing at the lone sock he finds lying on his desk. How it got there, he’s got a pretty good idea, but right now his sole focus is about getting it _off_ and also remembering where he’d put the disinfectant.

Mino lifts his head sleepily from the bed and sees the sock. He grins cheekily, “Don’t be such a heel, hyung.”

And okay, so maybe being in love with Mino means socks on his desks and bad puns, but the way Mino looks so eager makes up for it.

So instead of immediately going into a panic attack, Jinwoo just rips the covers off of Mino, much to Mino’s protests, and refuses to give them back until Mino has properly dealt of his indiscretion. By the time the Lysol job has been approved of, Mino’s too awake to go back to bed, so instead he goes to make a cup of coffee, ignoring Jinwoo’s reminder to take a shower.

Jinwoo’s house is messier nowadays, since Mino prefers the house over the dorm he shares at the college he goes to, and Jinwoo is still driven to clean up every mess. But sometimes not right away, not until he’s called uncle and Mino lets him out of the headlock he’d put him in. Sometimes he forgets the mess entirely.

(And since Mino has insisted on dish-duty, Jinwoo doesn't spend hours making sure he's cleaned every last spot on the dirty plates.)

 

* * *

 

“This is killing me. Seriously, I want to throw up.”

Mino just guffaws and grabs another handful of M&M’s from the bowl they’re sharing, grinning at the screen where Ron Weasley is being told he’s got dirt on his nose.

“Mino. Dude. I can’t do this.”

Mino knows that if he gives in, Jinwoo will happily spend the rest of the night sorting out the candies by colour rather than actually watching the movie. And as a person who was hoping to spend the night getting laid rather than playing with his food, he’s going to try his best _not_ to give in.

He eyes the scarf he’s tied around Jinwoo’s wrists, a rather rudimentary attempt at keeping Jinwoo contained, and just tugs the bowl into his lap instead. “Go make popcorn, then. You’re not getting your hands on my M&Ms.”

Jinwoo just whines and kicks Mino’s shin, enjoying the yelp of surprise and the scowl that Mino sends his way. “This is your fault! I didn’t even know we had M&Ms. If you’d told me, I would have sorted them earlier!” He crosses his arms and narrows his eyes. “You were _hiding_ them, you sneak!”

“I’m sharing them now, aren’t I? You take _hours_ doing that stuff, hyung! You have way better things to do,” Mino says, rubbing his leg and pouting at the older man. “Like, for example, watching Draco Malfoy get shown up by McGonagall.”

Jinwoo just snorts at the way Mino is mangling the characters’ names. “Fine. But I’m not getting up. Share with me!”

Mino tries to convince Jinwoo that passing the M&Ms one by one via mouth is totally romantic, but Jinwoo has none of it. Harry Potter saves the day, Mino just shoves a handful of the candies into Jinwoo’s mouth, and their kisses are sweeter than usual.

 

* * *

 

“No, _no_ , just don’t, Mino.”

Jinwoo’s fingers shake so badly that it takes a few tries to open the door, but he manages it, and the door is locked behind him. He knows Mino is standing on the other side of the door, he knows Mino’s forehead will be pinched like it gets when he’s worried, and he knows that Mino won’t try to follow him.

It’s a bad day.

These are the days where Jinwoo will seriously contemplate skinning himself, if only to get rid of the itch he feels on every square inch of him. These are the days where he can’t stand even breathing in the same room as someone else, much less be held and comforted, to Mino’s frustration.

This is his room. His special room, the one he keeps shut off most days because he can’t risk letting it get contaminated. This is the room he goes to escape.

  
He’s not supposed to, but he takes another pill. He swallows it dry. The one he’d taken in the morning clearly wasn’t working all that well. He hopes this doesn’t mean another visit to the physician to get his prescription tweaked again because the testing period always makes him feel awful.

For the rest of the day, Jinwoo checks to see if the door is locked seventy-three times. He sorts out three decks of cards to keep himself distracted, each time making the pattern more and more difficult. He hides in a corner for longer than he’ll ever admit to.

Mino only disturbs him once, when he’s pleading for Jinwoo to come out and eat, to drink some water. It breaks his heart, but Jinwoo doesn’t respond, instead choosing to pay closer attention to the pile where all the even-numbered red cards go.

The next morning, Jinwoo feels absolutely exhausted, but the need to wash himself is urgent. Besides, it’s a new day. He’s ready to brave it. He has it under control.

When he opens the door, he sees Mino slouched over on the ground, back against a wall and fast asleep. He’s still wearing the shirt he’d changed into yesterday, and the bags under his eyes tell him that Mino had been awake all night as well. Jinwoo bites hard to stop the quivering in his lips and bends down to try and see if he can move Mino to the bed without waking him up. It doesn’t work, because Mino’s eyes open and a relieved smile appears on his face.

Jinwoo doesn’t even care that neither of them have brushed their teeth yet, doesn’t care that he hasn’t showered, doesn’t care about anything except for the comfort he feels when Mino presses their lips together.

 

* * *

 

“Okay, seriously, put me down _now_!”

Mino grins and rights Jinwoo so that both Velcro’d feet were planted firmly on the ground. Jinwoo’s cheeks are flushed, rushing into the coffee shop and trying to pretend like he hadn’t just been carried bridal style for five hundred thirty steps after Mino had complained about their slow pace.

The shop is almost empty, and Jinwoo immediately relaxes, because maybe no one will have noticed. Taehyun spots him from behind the espresso machine and waves happily.

“Hi, Jinwoo-hyung!” Taehyun greets cheerfully, placing the finished drink on the bar and shouting out the customer’s name before walking over to the register. Mino had made fast friends with Taehyun after Jinwoo had introduced them, and now Taehyun calls them both hyung. “Interesting mode of transportation,” he comments, quirking an eyebrow and laughing at the deepened flush on Jinwoo’s face.

“What, no hello for me, too?” Mino asks, an affronted look on his face as he walks into the shop. Taehyun just pokes his tongue out at him and shakes his head.

“I only greet customers. He always pays for you, so technically I don’t owe you anything, hyung,” Taehyun replies, smirk on his face.

“Technically, you owe me a new controller,” Mino fires back. It turns out that Taehyun gets really immersed in the games he plays, and the dent in Mino’s bedroom wall and the busted X-Box controller are proof of it. Taehyun colours while Jinwoo just snickers into his hand.

“I’ll pay you back when my paycheque comes in, I already told you that,” Taehyun whines. “And besides, you were cheating your ass off! What was I supposed to do?”

“Not chuck my controller at the wall? In the meantime, though, can I try that pie on the top shelf?” Mino grins and sticks his face way too close to the display case for Jinwoo’s liking. “Is that cherry?”

“Can’t you read?” Jinwoo asks, poking Mino in the ribs. “It _says_ bumbleberry on the sign.”

“What the hell is a bumbleberry?”

“Why don’t you find out? Two slices, please,” Jinwoo says, smiling at Taehyun. “Um. And also an apple strudel.”

If Jinwoo is honest with himself, he’s kind of sick of apple strudels, but he’s long since worked out that they have the perfect crumb to bite ratio and today’s been an okay day. Jinwoo uses his new tap-and-go credit card to pay and stuffs a 10 000 won bill into the tip jar instead. Mino grabs the plates and Jinwoo grabs the drinks, and Mino bullies the teenager sitting in their seat until the kid leaves.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Jinwoo says reproachfully, although he’s only half as bothered as he lets on. _We might as well carve our names into the table_ , Jinwoo thinks, but then nixes the idea quickly because as close as Taehyun and Jinwoo are, he’s pretty sure Taehyun would be upset to find them defacing his property.

Mino just shrugs. “You don’t like sitting anywhere else.”

It turns out bumbleberries are actually really delicious, and Mino does his best impression of a vacuum as he inhales his slice of pie. Jinwoo nearly cries laughing when Mino starts choking on a crumb ( _‘I told you they were evil!’_ ), and Mino is oh so smooth when he suggests trading his slice of pie for Jinwoo’s strudel.

“I suppose so, just to keep you from dying again,” Jinwoo allows, but the knowing smile on Mino’s face is all too obvious.

"Yes, it's clasped," Mino says as a reply, smiling as Jinwoo replaces his hand back on the table. "Just like it always is."

Afternoons at the coffee shop are usually spent the same way. Jinwoo edits the new chapters he’d finished, with a straight-edge already packed in his definitely-clasped satchel. Mino struggles with Calculus homework for approximately five minutes before giving up and starts doodling in the margins. Jinwoo knows that Mino likes to rap, that he’s got a real knack for rhyming that makes Jinwoo envious sometimes. Jinwoo doesn’t even mind Mino’s muttered verses under his breath and the tapping of his feet beneath the table.

 

He doesn’t even remember what it was like when he used to sit at the table alone.

 


	3. the end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things are back to the way they once were, but maybe jinwoo has changed after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by [this](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vnKZ4pdSU-s).

“Fuck, Jinwoo, will you just quit it already?” Mino grumbles as he feels Jinwoo slide out of bed yet again, pulling him back from the brink of sleep. “It’s locked. You’ve checked thirteen times already.”  
  
Jinwoo is wordless as he leaves the room, padding to the door in his slippers. The door is indeed locked, just as Mino had predicted, and normally Jinwoo would feel a wash of relief every time he checked. But this time, with Mino’s complaints still echoing in his head, Jinwoo feels nothing.  
  
He knows, deep down, that the door will remain locked. He knows that his doctor has told him to try and resist the urge, to not give in. He knows Mino gets upset when he leaves the bed every ten minutes to check anyway.  
  
It’s the disgust he feels for himself that keeps him standing by the door long after he’s checked. It’s the disgust he fears from Mino that makes him sleep by the door instead.  
  


* * *

“Let’s just stay in, instead,” Mino suggests, glancing at the way Jinwoo has already gotten dressed and looking away. “I’m tired. I don’t feel like going out tonight. School has been crazy, you know?”  
  
Jinwoo understands, of course he does. It’s finals season at the university and Mino has been spending way too many nights awake and studying for Jinwoo’s liking. He’s got a biology final in the morning and three units that still needed reviewing. The bags under Mino’s eyes are more pronounced than usual.  
  
But Jinwoo also remembers that they haven’t been out in months, even before finals had begun. That the last time they went out to eat together, they’d had to leave early because Jinwoo hadn’t been able to stand the clutter and Mino had been tired of calming him down. That they’ve been ordering take-out for two weeks now and that if he never eats Thai again, he’ll be happy.  
  
“Then what do you want to eat?” Jinwoo asks, already surrendering. He tries to push away the disappointment he feels and instead distracts himself by thinking of what to cook. “I could—”  
  
“I’m not really hungry,” Mino interrupts, a touch of impatience in his voice. “I’ve still got to finish this chapter anyway. If I get hungry later, I’ll just make ramen or something.” He doesn’t even look up from the textbook.  
  
Jinwoo recognizes the dismissal, and maybe he closes the door behind him a little harder than usual. He eats alone that night, avoiding the study room and instead tries to work his way through the latest chapter of his book. He gives up after half an hour, though, because he can hear laughing on the phone and it distracts him.  
  


* * *

It’s a bad day.  
  
Jinwoo wants to scream and claw at his fingers and fold in on himself so tightly that he might disappear.  
  
His hands move so fast that they almost blur when he sorts out the cards over and over again, a rapid rhythm that he keeps up for so long that his hands begin to cramp. Still, he doesn’t stop. He makes a mistake, once, and in his panic to fix the mistake he accidentally scatters everything, the cards no longer in perfect arrangement but instead in a mess all over the floor.  
  
 _Pick them up, pick them up, pick them up!_  
  
He scrambles to pick them all up, but the hysteria that’s quickly taking over him makes it impossible. Tears blind him and he’s breathing so fast his heart can’t keep up.  
  
 _Pick them up pick them up pick them up pick them—_  
  
The hot flashes and the numbness in his hands are a dead giveaway. Jinwoo hasn’t had a panic attack in over a year, but he can feel one coming now, but he does nothing to try and stop it. The terror that wracks him renders him immobile, unable to even cry out for help. The pounding of his heart seems to get louder and louder until it’s all he can hear, and the shortness of breath he feels only ramps up the fear he feels.  
  
 _Pickthemuppickthemuppickthemup—_  
  
  


  
It’s when Jinwoo starts screaming that Mino bursts into the room, torn away from his study session. It takes Mino nearly half an hour to finally calm Jinwoo down, and by the end of it Mino’s nerves are as shot as Jinwoo’s.  
  
Mino has never seen it get this bad before. The anxiety, he can deal with. The bad days, he’s learned to just accept.  
  
The panic attack is new to him, and it scares him so much that he can’t look Jinwoo in the eye for a week.  
  


* * *

The day Mino leaves, Jinwoo finds himself locked in his room, arranging and re-arranging the furniture in his bedroom ten times before he collapses in exhaustion on the bed that is now against the east wall.  
  
“Please,” he begs. “Please don’t go.”  
  
And Mino is apologetic, but he’s packing a duffel bag with the clothes he’d brought to Jinwoo’s house.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Mino tells him, unable to look away from the drawer he’s pulling jeans from. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t do this anymore.”  
  


* * *

Jinwoo writes him a letter, afterwards.  
  
In the letter, Jinwoo tells Mino about how he’s finally finished his book. He tells Mino about the new arrangement of his bedroom, about how the squirrels have stopped munching on his garden, about his first fan letter.  
  
He doesn’t mention how he hasn’t been sleeping well because he leaves his door unlocked at night. He doesn’t mention how his hands are perpetually red and raw from the constant hand-washing. He purposefully leaves out his visit to the doctor and how he might have start hiring a glorified babysitter if he continues to succumb to his disorder; the doctor had despaired over the sudden turn for the worse.  
  
 _‘You were doing so well,’_ the doctor had said, upset. _‘What happened?’_  
  
Jinwoo writes about other things, too. He writes about how the bed always feels empty now and how he almost misses finding undergarments strewn across the room in places he wouldn’t have imagined. About how he can’t stop thinking about the way Mino’s eyes would always turn into crescent moons whenever he laughed. How the coffee isn’t the same, because Mino always used a secret ingredient that he never revealed to Jinwoo because _‘then you’d have no reason to keep me around, hyung,’_.  
  
 _I guess I just miss you,_ he writes. _I miss you and I’m angry. I’m angry that I can’t ever wear my runners again because you’re not there to tie them and I never get it right anyway. I’m upset because all the M &Ms are sorted by colour and you’re not there to mess them up. I don’t like that you’re not there to eat my apple strudels and that I have to check the clasp on my satchel all by myself._  
  
 _But most of all I hate that I don’t laugh anymore because you’re not making bad jokes. I hate that I don’t smile anymore because you’re probably smiling for someone else and I hate that, too. I hate that you were the first person I fell in love with because now that I’m in love I can’t stop. I hate that the most beautiful thing I ever had in my life had to leave because of me, and above all I hate myself because I drove you away._  
  
 _I’ll never hate you, though, Song Mino. Because I love you, when I shouldn’t. Because I love you, even though you don’t love me. Because I love you, I love you, I love you._  
  
  
  
  
Jinwoo never sends the letter.  
  


* * *

Jinwoo lets out a whoop of excitement because for the first time ever, the loops of his shoelaces are actually symmetric. Sure, it took him twenty-five minutes and infinite patience, but his hard work was worth it. He looks down at his properly secured feet and smiles in pride. Maybe three years of regret over buying shoes he knew would cause him trouble was worth it now.  
  
He pats his pair of Velcros fondly and bends down to pick up his satchel. He checks his papers, then turns the clasp shut on his bag. His wallet is definitely in his pocket, and he makes sure to lock his front door twice before taking a deep breath and turning to face the world.  
It’s been weeks since he’s made this particular trip. Even now, he hesitates, stalling. He makes it off his porch, and between the anxiety that the sidewalk gives him and the twisting feeling in his gut he thinks he might not even make it to coffee shop.  
  
It’s a nice day out; the sun is shining and it’s not humid for the first time that week. The sun feels nice on his skin, and Jinwoo realizes he _misses_ the feeling. He’d been inside for far too long.  
  
Five hundred and seventy-three steps later, Jinwoo arrives at the coffee shop. He’d had to stop three times to ruffle through his bag and make sure that he’d packed everything he needed. He was suspicious of the number of cracks in the sidewalk there seemed to be; surely there hadn’t been this many before?  
  
Stop.  
  
Hesitate.  
  
Stop.  
  
Hesitate.  
  
Passersby give him weird looks and it’s really embarrassing. He’d prepared that morning by taking more medication than was actually prescribed, but it didn’t seem to have helped much.  
  
The little bell that Taehyun had installed over the door recently jingled cheerily, announcing his presence. Taehyun looks up from the sink where he’d been washing his hands and smiles brightly, waving a sudsy hand in Jinwoo’s direction.  
  
“Hey, hyung!” he calls out. Quickly turning off the tap and drying his hands on a towel, Taehyun goes to the front counter where Jinwoo is waiting. “Where’ve you been? I haven’t seen you around here in forever!”  
  
It occurs to Jinwoo that maybe Taehyun doesn’t know. His suspicious are confirmed when Taehyun follows up with: “And where’s Mino-hyung?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Jinwoo answers truthfully. “I haven’t seen him around either.”  
  
He doesn’t elaborate, but Taehyun seems to understand. It gets just a tad more awkward, and Taehyun clears his throat before asking for Jinwoo’s order shyly. Jinwoo surprises both of them when he asks for a strawberry smoothie and a chocolate chip muffin instead. Taehyun raises his eyebrows for a moment before preparing the order.  
  
“I’m sorry, hyung,” Taehyun blurts out, later, after he’s handed Jinwoo his food and drink. He blushes and fidgets with his apron. “I mean, you know. About you and hyung. You liked him a lot.”  
  
Jinwoo really doesn’t know what to say, and he’s pretty sure the anxiety he’s feeling doesn’t have anything to do with anything obsessive. Or compulsive. “Yeah,” he replies, and that sounds kind of stupid so he hastily tacks on a “Thanks,” at the end.  
  
Taehyun says “He liked you a lot, too,” before Jinwoo can walk away. “I’ve never seen him as happy as he is with you.”  
  
So maybe Taehyun is being slightly invasive, but Jinwoo just smiles at his eager friend. Luckily, his (their) seat is empty and Jinwoo feels himself relax just the tiniest bit as he settles into the familiar chair. He’s pretty glad he decided against carving their names into the table now, and the thought makes him smile.  
  
He doesn’t spend his afternoon editing his book; it’s already done. No, he spends his afternoon starting a new one. He’s never written about his life before, because he never believed his life was worth writing about before, but he gives it a shot now. He writes a love story about a boy born with an invisible disability and how the boy had found love against all odds.  
  
It’s short, and he finishes it in one sitting. He probably won’t ever release it, and besides, he doesn’t think anyone else would want to read it anyway. It was too personal, too full of inside jokes and anecdotes for anyone else to truly understand it, anyway.  
  
But Jinwoo will keep it, and he’ll probably end up reading it often. Because the story he writes has a happy ending; the boy in the story never breaks up with his boyfriend, and the boyfriend loves unconditionally. They live happily ever after, and Jinwoo thinks that maybe it’s enough. That maybe it’s better this way.  
  
The muffin crumbles, and for once Jinwoo doesn’t mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- so yeah wow i never expected for this fic to get this long. i never write this much this fast. the winner fandom has reignited the spark!  
> \- minwoo is my otp because they are my two biases and i really like writing jinwoo idek. i have a feeling more minwoo will come.  
> \- this is loosely based on the poem i linked to in the first part. the poem was delivered so well that i cry every time i watch it. even though i have no real experience with obsessive-compulsive disorder, i tried to keep it as legit as possible. much googling was involved.  
> \- might try my hand at exo next, not sure  
> \- thank you for reading <3


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